


Renovatio

by Trash



Category: Linkin Park, The Island (2005)
Genre: Clones, Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 16:05:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some times all it takes is innocence to add colour to your life</p>
            </blockquote>





	Renovatio

“They found another survivor.” Says Delson, putting his tray down on the table in front of him. Delson, he’s only allowed porridge and an apple today.

“Do you want some of my bacon?” Bennington whispers, leaning over the table and discreetly placing a rasher on Delson’s tray.

With a frustrated sigh Delson sits back in his seat and snaps “Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, yeah. Another survivor. Great.” This is all said around a mouthful of bacon. It’s hard and overcooked and tastes like cardboard but it’s a damn sight better than the grey slop that is Delson’s porridge. Bennington says “why should I care?”

“Because they’re saving lives all around us. That’s why you should care.”

“Don’t you think,” Bennington pauses, glances around at the security who are monitoring each table carefully. Lowering his tone he continues, “Don’t you ever think that each new survivor is just another chance of winning the lottery lost?”

And Delson, he smirks, he says “I don’t want to go to The Island. You know that.”

Because of course, they’ve had this conversation before. “You’re the only one, then.”

The room around them is starched white, the way Bennington imagines the medical wing looks. But only women see the medical wing. Pregnant women are taken there, and then they and their child go to The Island. They’re freed. They’re the lucky ones. But, somewhere in his head, there’s still a tiny voice telling him he’s special and that one day his time will come. One day, he’ll see The Island.

“His name is Bourdon.”

“The new guy?”

Delson chews on the bacon thoughtfully for a second, says “yeah him. Shinoda Five Foxtrot says that he’s as dumb as a bag of hammers. But Shinoda was like that too when he first came here, he could barely speak.”

Bennington laughs slightly and sips his water, “you say that as if you could.” Bennington, he can’t remember how his first days were spent here. He likes to think he wasn’t too much of an idiot. But then again, all of the new survivors are like that. He can vaguely remember Delson’s arrival; he can remember seeing him leaving the Tranquillity Room, seeing him stagger and stumble and have to be held up by the security guards in black. He can remember Delson’s skin was almost as pale as the white clothing he wore, the only colour being the dark orbs of his eyes filled with fear and the loose curls on his head that Bennington longed to touch.

Of course, he never had got to touch Delson’s hair. Once he had tried, he reached out and security swarmed down on them. “Watch your proximity level.” One of the black clad men had told him coldly.

“I could speak at least.” Says Delson, swirling the grey porridge around his tray. “Shinoda says that Bourdon can barely string a sentence together.”

“Wanna know what I think?” Bennington asks, “I think you should stop listening to Shinoda.”

***  
They’re in the elevator when Bennington first meets Bourdon. The young man stands timidly in the corner, watching the view of the outside world rush past as they descended. Slowly, Bennington approached him and rested a hand gently on his shoulder. Bourdon jumped slightly and turned to face him, eyes full of fear and mistrust.

“Hey. I’m Bennington Five Echo.”

“Bourdon Six Foxtrot.” Replies the young man quietly, as if he doesn’t really want to be heard.

“What do you think of this place so far, then?” Bennington asks, turning to watch the world fly past.

“White.” Bourdon murmurs. “Everything’s white. Like...he...um...heff...”

“Heaven?”

“Yeah,” Bourdon nods, ducking his head and blushing lightly “that.”

“This isn’t heaven.” Bennington assures the younger man quietly, “no, heaven is out there.” He nods to the window and the blurring streak of landscape beyond.

“The Island.”

With a smile the older man nods, “You catch on quick kid.”

“Are you my friend?”

“If you want me to be.”

”Just...everyone said it’s best to make friends. Will you be my friend?”

Bennington smiles as the elevator stops and the doors slide open slowly, its occupants filtering out onto the floor. “Sure.”

Delson is already at his work station when Bennington and Bourdon enter the room. He injects the vitamins into the tubes laid in front of him precisely, never glancing up once. As Bennington moves to take his place opposite Delson, he notices that his new friend is no longer beside him. He turns to regard Bourdon, who is looking around the room and frowning.

“How come,” Bourdon begins slowly, “How come everyone wears the same.”

“It’s called uniform.” Butts in Delson, never looking up from his work, “you’d do well not to keep asking questions. Just get on with it. You’re a survivor. Be grateful you didn’t die with the rest of the human race. Me, I had family. I had a wife. She was beautiful. She’s dead.”

And Bourdon asks, “What’s dead?”

Delson deadpans, “the opposite of alive.”

Taking a seat and staring blankly at the tubes and syringes in front of him, Bourdon asks, “Why is everything white?”

Delson drops his syringe and cradles his head in his hands, tells Bennington to shut that asshole up before he kills him.

Bennington says “white is clean. Don’t you want to be clean?”

“White gets dirty. It gets tainted.”

Before Bennington can open his mouth to say anything at all, a security guard wanders over and says “back to work gentlemen.” And whilst Bourdon just stares at the syringes and tubes, Bennington thinks about white but mostly about Bourdon and how, really, this kid is probably going to change his life forever.

***

In the elevator on the way to their sleeping quarters Bourdon asks Bennington quietly, “do you remember anything from before the contamination?”

“I was in a band.”

Outside its dark now, the stars reflecting on the ocean below and the moon illuminating the night sky with stolen light. The pair turns to watch the water move with the tide and Bourdon sighs quietly “I was in college. I had friends there. I miss it.”

“You have friends here too.”

“It’s not the same.”

Bennington frowns, “what else do you remember?”

Bourdon leans in slightly and whispers, his warm breath ghosting over Bennington’s skin, “I remember...they were more than my friends. One was, anyway.”

“Like...like best friends. Like me and Delson?”

The young man shakes his head, “No. We used to...my one friend, I remember he used to put his arms around me. He was nice to me.”

“Like this?” Asks Bennington, moving to stand behind Bourdon and putting his hands on the younger man’s hips. “What was your friend called?”

Bourdon smiles and murmurs, “Yeah, like that. I don’t remember his name. He was in a band too. Just like you.”

Bennington cocks his head to the side and something, some internal instinct, tells him to pull the man in front of him closer. He slides his hands around until they rest against Bourdon’s stomach and he pulls his against him, chest to back. “This is nice. I like this. But we’ll probably get a proximity warning the moment we step out of the elevator.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind.” Says Bourdon softly, his voice thick with exhaustion. He leans his head back against Bennington’s shoulder and smiles faintly. “You smell like colour.” He says.

“Like colour?” Bennington chuckles.

Bourdon grins and turns around in his friend’s arms, “Yep. You smell like the rainbow.”

“Do colours smell?”

“Yes. Everyone else here smells white. Everyone is the same. But you smell like red, and orange and yellow and blue and green and purple. You smell like fun. I like being your friend.”

Giggling, Bennington says “I like being your friend too.”

The elevator slides to a halt and the doors open. Over Bennington’s shoulder, Bourdon watches two black-clad security guards approach.

The words, “Six Foxtrot and Five Delta, watch your proximity,” and suddenly everything is back to normal.

***

Whilst the three eat breakfast the next day, the lottery begins. The anonymous face of a brunette appears on the screen and reminds them how much they all want to go to The Island.

“If they pick me I’ll scream.” Says Delson, not even looking at the screen. He steals Bennington’s bacon from his tray and drinks Bourdon’s orange juice.

“Don’t you want to go to The Island?” Asks Bourdon, reaching over and taking Delson’s apple in exchange for his nutrient bar.

“Not especially.”

The brunette on the screen says, “Bourdon Six Foxtrot, step up, you have been chosen to go to The Island.”

Over the cheering and rejoicing and the congratulations yelled by others around them, Delson says “Well done kid. You’re out.”

“I won.” Says Bourdon quietly, in shock. He turns to Bennington whose eyes are glassy and sad. “See you on The Island?”

Bennington, he’s thinking about colours and how much he’s going to miss Bourdon. He says “Some day.”


End file.
